Home for Christmas
by Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs
Summary: Elizabeth is at the sink, a towel over her shoulder, humming along to the song on the radio- she's still in her party dress, and warmth pools in Henry's chest at the knowledge that she'd waited up for him.


A/N: This is just a smutty little tag to last week's episode 4x09, because Henry deserved to see Elizabeth in that dress and I think we were all hoping for an actual Elizabeth/Henry scene. Not much plot here- pretty much just porn.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

It's later than he expected to be home, and he opens the front door with disappointment weighing on his shoulders, anticipating the rest of the house already in bed.

To his surprise, the sink is going in the kitchen, the soft noise of dishes and the hum of the radio guiding him through the house until he can lean against the doorway, smiling at the sight before him.

Elizabeth is at the sink, a towel over her shoulder, humming along to the song on the radio- she's still in her party dress, and warmth pools in Henry's chest at the knowledge that she'd waited up for him. They'd spent so much time apart the last few weeks- with trying to find the leak, Henry had spent more and more time at the office, with later and later nights. It felt like it had been ages since he'd spent time with his wife, and he'd hated missing the party tonight- hated missing seeing her in this dress.

"Now I see why you were the talk of the town," he says quietly, and Elizabeth turns, lips immediately curving into a smile at the sight of him as she shut off the water, drying her hands on the towel.

"You're home," she says, rounding the island and coming over to kiss him softly, hands pressing against his chest.

"I didn't think you'd still be up," Henry cards a hand through her hair, tucking some of it behind her ear, thumb dragging along her jawbone. Elizabeth melts into the touch, sighing softly.

"I wanted to wait up for you," she replies, working on his tie until the fabric hung loosely around his neck, toying with the lapels of his jacket. "You missed quite a party."

"I am sorry about that, babe," Henry starts, genuinely apologetic, but Elizabeth simply shook her head, one hand lifting to stroke over his cheek. She leans in, blue eyes flickering with warmth.

"I think I'd much prefer a private party with you upstairs," she confesses in a whisper, brushing her lips over his teasingly before she slipped away, heading up the stairs. She makes it about halfway up before Henry starts chasing after her; he catches her just outside the entryway to their bedroom, spinning her into his arms and kissing her as he presses her against the wall.

"How many kids are here?" he asks when they part, panting, and Elizabeth smiles.

"All of 'em. Ali's staying the night. She was promised breakfast," she answers softly, and Henry's forehead fell to hers, simply holding her against him for a moment before she began to tug him by his loose tie into their room.

With the door shut firmly behind them, Elizabeth began pushing at her husband's clothes; his tie fluttered to the floor moments before his jacket joined it, and her fingers went for the buttons of his shirt. Henry's previously-idle hands slid up her back, finding the zipper of her dress and gently tugging it down.

"As gorgeous as this dress is- I want it off," he tells her, voice raspy with arousal, and Elizabeth's breath hitches, a shiver trailing down her spine. She helps him push the dress off her shoulders, the fabric fluttering around her feet, and Henry lets out a deep groan at the sight of matching red lace.

"I told you I wanted to wait up for you," Elizabeth is breathless as Henry's hands trace down her bare sides, flirting with the hem of her panties. He lowers his mouth to hers as she steps out of the pool of her dress, pressing herself against him.

"You are the _best_ present," he says against her mouth, and Elizabeth bites at his lower lip as she finally pushes his shirt off his shoulders, fingers going to his belt.

Henry gently pushes her back onto the bed, letting her flop against the sheets while he finishes pushing his trousers to the floor, joining her on the bed in just his boxers. His wife's skin is warm and soft against his, and he lowers his mouth to her neck, sucking gently.

Elizabeth's hands stroke over his skin, holding him tightly against him, and Henry relishes the feeling of her body against his- a sensation he'd learned to never take for granted.

"Are you going to unwrap your present, or should I?" Elizabeth's voice is low in his ear, and he can hear the arousal in it; he groans, one hand sliding underneath her to unclip her bra, nudging one red strap down her shoulder with his nose, nuzzling her skin.

Tugging the article of clothing all the way off, he tosses it over the side of the bed, and smooths his palms up her flat torso, cupping her breasts in his hands and squeezing gently. Elizabeth moaned, and when he lowered his mouth, tongue darting out to run over her nipples, her hands came up to cup the back of his head.

The combination of his tongue and teeth have Elizabeth panting in no time, and she pushes at him, pulling him up to kiss him fiercely, hands sliding down to tug at his boxers.

"Off. Now," she says between breaths, and Henry huffs out a laugh, rolling onto his back and helping her get the tented boxers off, Elizabeth's smaller hand wrapping around him the moment he's bare. A low, helpless growl leaves Henry's mouth at her touch, and Elizabeth licks his jaw as she pumps him a few times.

"It's not a party unless we both participate," Henry tells her breathlessly, fingers plucking at the hem of her panties, slipping inside and groaning at the wetness he encountered. Elizabeth moaned, arching into his touch, thighs parting.

When her hips start to rock, moving with him, she pushes at his hand, shaking her head- she swallows, tossing her hair out of her face.

"Together," she says, and Henry nods, tugging at the panties until he could pull them off her legs and toss them away, hovering over her and kissing her firmly. His palms encircled her thighs, lifting them to his hips as he slid inside of her, groaning as her heat and wetness encompassed him.

"Feel amazing babe," Henry pants against her mouth as he starts to move slowly, letting her adjust as one of her legs hooks over his hip and the other rests on top of his calf. One of her hands twines in his hair and the other digs her nails into the skin of his back, holding him against her as his pace picks up.

Elizabeth moans against his mouth, tilting her hips a little so Henry can sink further inside her, and they both groan at the angle change.

"More," she pants, and Henry shifts a little, one forearm pressing into the bed beside her head, allowing her to take more of his body weight as the other traveled down her body to where they were joined, stroking his thumb lightly over her clit. Elizabeth cried out, teeth sinking into his lip, thighs clenching around his hips as her internal muscles tightened around him.

"Baby," Henry starts, but Elizabeth captures his mouth with hers once more, cutting him off- he feels when she starts to come, muscles clenching rhythmically as her orgasm hits, and it pulls him over too. He moans her name, burying his face in her neck and shuddering through the aftershocks.

Henry kissed her softly, catching their breath as he stroked her skin, allowing them time to calm down before he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him.

Reaching down, he tugged the sheet up over them, wrapping it around their cooling bodies, his wife's head nestled underneath his chin. Henry buried his fingers in Elizabeth's hair, stroking her scalp gently as he felt her exhale in contentment against his skin.

"I was really getting tired of missing you in gorgeous dresses," Henry tells her, and Elizabeth chuckles softly, turning her head a little to press a kiss to his chest.

"Well I am always willing to give you a private showing any time you'd like, Professor," she tells him, teasing in her tone, and Henry brushes a kiss to her forehead. "Merry Christmas, Henry."

"Merry Christmas, babe."


End file.
